


Dinner at the Arby's

by Warpcorps



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Food, this was the first fic i ever wrote so i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpcorps/pseuds/Warpcorps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt by totalobliteration on tumblr i found<br/>"so cecil’s interns and carlos’ team of scientists need to like meet up at a bar on weekends and gossip about their stupidly in love bosses"<br/>also on my tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner at the Arby's

"Oh sweet Gods why?" asked Marylin, addressing the group as a whole. They were all packed in one booth at the Arby’s. She, Miracle, Joan, Eric, Brevis, Taylor, Chance and Trai all sat squashed into one booth, eating their thinly sliced roast beef slabs with various sauces, now served in bowls since the ban on wheat products. The scientists still had no idea what had caused the strange and sudden change in the formerly-benign dietary staple. It didn’t really affect Taylor as much because ey were already gluten-free. No-one had really asked if it was out of necessity or because of eir parents’ flower-child mindsets. The rest of Carlos’s team was rather miffed because of their dependences on Ramen that had lasted since high school.  
Marylin’s original query was because the one thing they had all come here to avoid was now blaring on the loudspeaker: Cecil’s voice was high pitched in the way that only he could make still sound oh-so-very suave and sleek. He only sounded this way when talking about either cat videos or her boss.  
Trai motioned for all of them to hunch closer together (as if that were possible, seeing as they had essentially forced the booth to double its intended capacity) so that he could conspiratorially stage whisper what he had “unintentionally” overheard his team leader doing with and to the town’s favorite shapeshifter. There had been a definite sloshing noise coming from Carlos’s private area of the house the team was renting together, coupled with moans, loud thumps, and possibly one or five exclamations of “Neat!” that no-one really cared to know the reason for. Trai had only come back to retrieve his lucky clipboard, which was honestly useless given the ban on writing utensils, but was good to have around. He had decided to scram and leave them to their privacy.  
Dana had a slightly more humiliating tale to tell. Carlos had just “happened” to stop by the radio station the day before, and honestly it was the first day in five years that the weather had been a thirty minute smooth jazz compilation. This had to be stopped.  
Joan agreed with Dana, possibly only because if she saw one more sucker-print on Carlos’s neck she was going to scream in terror outside of the designated time, which was a contribution to noise pollution, and as such was punishable by time spent in the mine shaft that may or may not have had eiderdown pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets on the king sized beds. Joan thought it might be nice except for the mandatory blood draws, immobilization by injection of a top-secret chemical, and never being able to see her loved ones again.  
Chance and Brevis spoke in unison of the time when, while searching for their respective bosses, had found them just gazing into one another’s eyes, unblinking, and immediately ran out because honestly Cecil had never shown that shape to anyone before and it was terrifying what with the horns and the segmented torso and the wingspan wider than some limousines’ length.  
When all of them walked out into the hazy magenta sky, speckled with the white light of what Miracle hoped to the gods were stars and not the glowing orbs that may or may not have taken Felicia away from them, Eric simply pointed at Cecil and Carlos coming out of the realtor’s office. Cecil had one hand on Carlos’s head, as always, and Carlos was rubbing into it as though he were a cat having his head scratched just there and the rest all sighed with grief that now there were going to be even more news reports and for some a higher share in their rent, and Eric of all people had won the bet on how soon it would be, meaning that their wallets would be considerably lighter and have the fact lorded over them until the end of their days.  
Thankfully, none of them would have to deal with that disappointment long because of the next week’s accident involving molten amber, but that story is probably best left untold.


End file.
